The Rebel of the School eBook

“No,” said Miss Atherton in a very suppressing
tone. “I don’t understand impertinent
questions, and I expect the schoolgirls to be orderly.—­Ah,
Ruth Craven! Will you take this young lady under
your wing?”

“Didn’t I say we were to be mates, dear?”
said Kathleen O’Hara; and as they passed from
the great hall, Kathleen’s hand was still fondly
linked on Ruth’s arm.

CHAPTER III.

ThewildIrishgirl.

Lessons went on in their usual orderly fashion.
At eleven o’clock there was a break for a quarter
of an hour. The girls streamed into the playground.
The playground was very large, and was asphalted, and
in consequence quite dry and pleasant to walk on.
There was a field just beyond, and into this field
the girls now strolled by twos and twos. Kathleen
O’Hara clung to Ruth Craven’s arm; she
kept talking to her and asking her questions.

“You needn’t reply unless you like, pet,”
she said. “All I want is just to look into
your face. I adore beauty; I worship it more than
anything else on earth. I was brought up in the
midst of it. I never saw anything uglier than
poor old Towser when he broke his leg and cut his upper
jaw; but although he was ugly, he was the darling
of my heart. He died, and I cried a lot.
I can’t quite get over it. Yes, I suppose
I am uncivilised, and I never want to be anything
else. Do you think I want to copy those nimby-pimby
girls over there, or that lot, or that?”

“What do I care whether they like it or not?”
said Kathleen. “I wasn’t brought
here to curry favor with them. What would my darling
father say if I told him that I was going to curry
favor with the girls of the Great Shirley School?
And what would mother say? No, no; I may pick
up a few smatterings, or I may not, but there is one
thing certain: I mean to make a friend of you,
Ruth—­yes, a great big bosom friend.
You will be fond of me, won’t you?”

“I like you now,” said Ruth. “I
know you are kind, and you are very pretty.”

“Why, then, darling,” said Kathleen, “is
it the Blarney Stone you have kissed? You have
a sweet little voice of your own, although it hasn’t
the dear touch of the brogue that I miss so in all
the other girls.”

“But you like Miss Tennant don’t you?”
said Ruth.

“Oh, yes. Poor little Alice! She’s
very reserved and very, very formal, but she’s
a good soul, and I won’t worry her. But
you are the one my heart has gone out to. Ah!
that is the way of Irish hearts. They go straight
out to their kindred spirits. You are a kindred
spirit of mine, Ruth Craven, and you can’t get
away from me, not even if you will.”

The fifteen minutes for recreation came to an end,
and the girls returned to the schoolroom. Ruth
was in a high class for her age, and was already absorbed
in her work. Kathleen drummed with her fingers
on her desk and looked round her. Kathleen was
in a low class; she was with girls a great deal smaller
and younger than herself.